


The Willow Maid

by HomuraBakura



Series: Arc V Angst Week 2018 [4]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, F/F, Fae & Fairies, Fey!Yuzu, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-02 02:11:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15786819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomuraBakura/pseuds/HomuraBakura
Summary: The forest has been cleared of fey for many, many long years, and forest warden Masumi is allowed to remain only to assist idiotic nobles in overhunting the animals that remain.  When she stumbles across a newborn willow maiden, however, she is determined to protect her from the nobles who will certainly attempt to use her for their own gain.[Based off of the song "The Willow Maid" by Erutan.]





	The Willow Maid

**Author's Note:**

> For Arc V Angst Week, Prompt 4: Separation

 

_A young man walked through the forest  
_

_With his quiver and hunting bow_

_He heard a young girl singing_

_And followed the sound below_

Masumi lowered her bow, scowling.  Something had spooked the hen she’d been gunning for, and now it was out of her reach.  She’d have to hope that the traps had caught something, or else dinner would be sparse tonight.

Sighing, she slung her bow back over her back.  The sun was setting quickly. It was autumn, after all, the light sparkling through the dappled orange and yellow leaves.  Her feet crunched as she passed through, despite trying to keep to the dirt as much as possible — it was nigh impossible to walk between the thick coat of fallen leaves.

Her mind wandered to what she could scrounge up for dinner if her traps were empty, and she was so engrossed that she didn’t, right away, notice the sound.

Her ears twitched, then, and she stopped short.  What...was that?

She strained to hear.  First she heard the wind, gusting gently through the leaves.  Then she heard the sound of the river just a ways down the ridge to her left.  And then, finally, she caught the notes of the song again.

It was someone humming, first, but then there were words — words she couldn’t understand, whether by virtue of the distance or if they were in another language.  She felt an uncommon shudder pass through her, her hair raising on end. There was something strange about the music — something alien. And yet...it was wholly entrancing.

She stopped herself before she automatically went crashing into the bushes.  Don’t be stupid, she admonished herself. There were all sorts of rumors of treacherous creatures out here, ready to lead a fool to their death.  She’d had to save more than one poor fool from the nearby hunting lodge; rich idiots who came for just the season, overhunted the deer, and then had the stupidity to fall into a will o’ wisp trap and nearly drown.  She really should let one of them drown in the bog one of these times. Show those dumb nobles right.

She kept her mind on such thoughts to prevent the siren’s call of the song from taking hold of her.  But as she continued to listen, she found it really didn’t have any magical sway over her at all. It was simply beautiful to listen to.

She looked back up at the sky, at the setting sun, and sighed.  Well, if some dumb noble had brought their young, stupid wife with them, and they’d gotten lost out in the woods, someone would come complain to her eventually.  She turned towards the song and made her way through the trees.

The sound of the river and the song both grew louder the closer she got.  The song definitely was in a language she didn’t recognize, and she frowned.  There weren’t all that many foreign nobles who came to the lodge. Maybe this was some foreign princess married off to one of them?

She pushed through the foliage, and peered out at the river.

A crook in the river hugged this little clearing neatly.  A huge willow tree nestled near the edge, its great rustling leaves hanging in a low canopy all around the water, dangling into it.  The grass was surprisingly green and thick, almost plush when she stepped onto it, and there were far more flowers around than there should be at this time of year.  The minute she stepped into the grass, too, she felt a curious sense of peace fall over her. She felt cleansed, somehow.

Through the thick curtain of willow branches, as the wind rustled them, she saw the girl at the bank.  That must be the singer. What was she doing here?

“Hello?” she called.  “Miss, it’s getting late.  The forest is a different place at night.”

The girl stopped singing immediately, shooting up to her feet just as Masumi passed through the canopy.  Her words dried up in her throat as she realized what she was looking at.

From the top to her waist, she looked ordinary enough — if alien in her perfect beauty.  She was fair skinned, like smooth bark, and her hair was as pink as a cherry blossom, falling in a pretty wave down her back and cresting over her shoulders.  She was slender and almost a little too long somehow, her fingers thin and delicate. And her eyes were just a hint too big, the irises just a hint too blue, staring at Masumi with a wide shock.  Masumi’s eyes flickered to below her waist, and that was where the humanness stopped.

The girl was clad only in a thin shift that looked more like it was made from willow leaves than anything else.  And beneath her skirt, instead of legs, she had a thick mass of tangled roots, set deep into the ground.

She gasped, and before Masumi could say another word, her rooted legs glided over the ground back to the trunk of the tree, and she melted into the bark, disappearing from sight.  Masumi’s heart leaped into her throat, and her eyes widened. Where the girl had been a moment before, at the base of the tree, was what appeared to be a ring of red mushrooms.

“Oh,” she breathed.

A willow maiden.  It had been many, many years since anyone had seen one in this forest — Masumi’s teacher had never seen one, but her teacher’s teacher had.  They were beautiful, eerie fey, but as far as fey went, they were kind. They had no ulterior motives, were rare to anger, and were considered symbols of good health in the forest.  As far as Masumi could remember, they had once been plentiful in these woods, but as the empire had stretched closer and closer to the forest, they’d begun to fade away.

“I’m so sorry, my lady,” she called, backing away with her head bowed.  “I didn’t realize who you were. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She bowed as she reached the edge of the willow curtain.

“I won’t disturb you, my lady.  Please forgive me for intruding.”

She was nearly out of the curtain when she heard a faint rustling sound.  She peeked up through her hair to see the girl’s face protruding from the tree trunk, staring at her.  Then she melted back into the wood, and disappeared.

Masumi quickly left the clearing, feeling a little sad as she left the clean, pure feeling of it behind.  If there was a willow maiden in these woods, perhaps the forest wasn’t so far gone as she had once thought.  But she’d have to make sure that those stupid nobles didn’t stumble across her. She knew what nobles did to fey like her.

She hurried her pace back home, thoughts of dinner forgotten.

* * *

_There he found the maiden  
_

_Who lives in the willow_

_He called to her as she listened_

_From a ring of toadstools red_

_“Come with me my maiden_

_“Come from thy willow bed.”_

_She looked at him serenely_

_And only shook her head_

The willow girl slipped out of her tree, watching the way her leaves rustled from the girl’s departure.  She couldn’t help but stare. She had never seen a human before. Something in her roots, an old memory that the forest fed her through its soil and water, told her what she needed to know about humans, but she had never seen one before herself.  She was new, as far as she understood what that meant. Her tree form had nurtured her mind for a hundred years, and she’d only learned to form this shape within the last few moon cycles.

She sank low into the dirt, letting the forest tell her more about its memories of humans.  She flinched at the memory of flashing steel that bit through wood, or the crackle of flames that people touched to the thick floor cover.  The old bodies of animals that nestled in the soil fed into her the ghosts of traps and arrows and the hunted, though the animals themselves held little ill will now that they were dead.  Things must eat.

Still, the memory of steel troubled her.  The human girl before hadn’t carried any such weapon, and had spoken with a sort of reverence towards her.  That which remained of other willows from long ago, written into the soil, told her that once, they had known humans like her.  Humans who gave them gifts, who built them sanctuaries to keep the steel away.

The willow girl tilted her head towards where the girl had gone.  She knew more, now, and wanted to ask other things. But not things that the soil could teach her — things that she would have to ask aloud.

The girl had come to her while she had been singing, testing out the new concept of “aloud.”  Perhaps if she sang again, the human girl would come once more. She opened her mouth, and started singing again.  The song was something else the soil had taught her, an old song of her ancestors among the willows. Her leaves took in all the air she needed, so she didn’t need to take a breath.

The moon rose slowly into the darkening sky and she continued to sing.  But the human girl did not appear. The moon was directly above her by the time she heard the sound of feet crunching through the leaves, and felt the other trees around her grow sleepily curious about the shape that was walking among them.

She rose up high on her roots, heart quickening with interest.  Was it her? Was it the human girl again?

It was not.  The shape that gently pulled back her leaves and stepped beneath her canopy was taller than the human girl, and a little broader, with a sharper face, and hair the color of straw swept back from his forehead.  She decided very quickly that she did not like his face — it reminded her of the memory of steel, both in the sharp edges of his jaw and the metal glint in his eyes.

But he smiled, and it wasn’t a rude smile.  She didn’t retreat into her trunk, though she did draw closer to it.

“I thought I heard a beautiful voice,” he said.  “Do not flee, my lady. I wish you no harm.”

She tilted her head.  The words were the same language as the human girl from before.  The soil here remembered this language, and she drew it up through her roots.

“Who are you?” she asked, in his language.

He looked surprised, but pleased.

“You speak our tongue.”

“The forest recalls it.  Who are you?”

He smiled again.  She wasn’t sure she liked his smile.  But he spoke with the same mild reverence as the human girl had.  Perhaps he was one like her. He bowed low, the way the human girl had.

“I am called Jean-Michel Roger, the Duke of Norwin,” he said.  “It is a pleasure to meet you, maiden of the forest.”

She didn’t know if it was a pleasure.  She hummed and rustled her leaves.

“Did you come to meet me?”

“I have searched the whole of the kingdom for one like you.”

She blinked.  What for?

“Willow maidens have a very unique strength.  One that can be of great benefit to the whole of the kingdom,” he said.  “Many forests around our land are dying. But if you come with me...you could save them.”

She tilted her head, blinking.

“I cannot leave,” she said.  “I remain here.”

“It is said a maiden can leave with one she marries,” he said.  “You could save many forests, if you would be my bride.”

She stared at him longer.  She decided, once and for all, that she did not like this man.

“I cannot leave,” she said, drawing back into her bark.  “I will remain here.”

She watched him through her leaves from within her tree, watched him as he waited for a long, long while.  Finally, he left, and she felt a breath of relief. Perhaps she would not sing again tonight.

* * *

 

_A young man walked through the forest  
_

_With a flower and coat of green_

_His love had hair like fire_

_Her eyes an emerald sheen_

_She wrapped herself in beauty_

_So young and so serene_

 

“My lady?  Please forgive me for intruding again!”

Masumi balanced the bag of fresh compost she’d gathered from her bin under one arm, and the water she’d had blessed by the visiting cleric under the other.  If she was going to protect this willow maiden, she’d have to make sure she was strong. She must be newly birthed if Masumi had never seen her before, and that meant she would be more susceptible to danger.

She didn’t really expect the willow maiden to show herself.  Masumi had definitely startled her the day before. But she could leave her offerings here regardless.

She was surprised when the girl immediately slid half out of the tree up to her waist, staring at Masumi with big blue eyes.

“You came back,” she said, and Masumi startled.

“You’ve learned to speak very quickly,” she said with surprise.

The girl tilted her head.

“The soil remembers,” she said.

Masumi nodded.  That made enough sense.  She’d picked up as many of her teacher’s old notes she could find around her home, and read everything she could find that her teacher and all predecessors had written on the willow maidens.  They learned from the memory of the forest that they drank from. This forest was old enough, that even if she was new, she would learn quickly.

Masumi bowed awkwardly with her packages.

“I...brought you some things, my lady,” Masumi said.  “They’re gifts.”

“What for?”

Masumi looked up at her with a bit of surprise.  The girl looked a little suspicious. Well, that was good.  A suspicious willow maiden was a maiden who lived longer. Masumi set down her packages carefully, and bowed deeper.

“The forest might remember that there have been a series of wardens here for many generations,” she said.  “I’m the current inheritor of that line. It’s been many years since our woods has had a willow maiden, and as a ward of this place, I want to protect it.”

She waited for a while to see if the girl would respond.

Suddenly, the girl’s face was right in front of hers, as she had popped out of the ground right in front of her.  Masumi yelped. She wheeled her arms, and then plopped onto the ground. The girl actually giggled. Masumi flushed.

She looked up to see the girl inspecting the packages.  One of her tangle of roots beneath her skirt lifted up from the ground, poking at the bag of compost.  A light of interest sparked in her eyes.

“It’s fertilizer,” Masumi said.  She reached over and opened the bag, and the girl glided through the earth around to poke her roots inside.  A look of utter delight crossed her face, and then her eyes half lidded with pleasure.

“It’s delicious,” she said.

Masumi overturned the bag onto the ground.  The girl immediately rolled over it with her roots, settling down onto of it with a sigh.  She looked so happy, and indeed, a beautiful rosy color sprang to her cheeks and her skin and hair deepened in shade.

“I made it from old fruit from my grove,” Masumi said.  “I’m glad you like it.”

She looked so happy that Masumi couldn’t help but feel a little light.  She reached for the watering can.

“I’ve brought you water, too,” she said.  “Would you like some?”

The girl nodded.  She reached out with a few roots and took the can, tilting it back and forth for a moment to stare at it.  Her eyes widened as she figured out that she had to tilt it to pour out the water. She poured it onto her roots, and shivered with delight again.

“Thank you!” she said, eyes shining at Masumi.  “You are most definitely one of the old wardens.”

“Does the soil remember that, too?”

She nodded.  Sighing, she settled down into the earth, so that she looked as though she were simply sitting down, her willow leaf skirt billowing around her and hiding away her roots.  She looked up at Masumi with a smile.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m Masumi Kotsu,” Masumi said.  “Do you have a name, my lady?”

The girl tilted her head. Her skirt ruffled as her roots shifted.

“Yuzu,” she said.

Masumi smiled.

“That’s one of the fruits I used the most of in that compost,” she said.  “Did you take it from that?”

“The soil remembers what the fruit is,” Yuzu said, humming with contentment.  “It’s a good name.”

Masumi couldn’t help but let out a little laugh, and then so did Yuzu.  The two of them sat there, laughing, as the river began to glitter and sparkle.  Masumi couldn’t take her eyes off of Yuzu. She truly was beautiful — the most beautiful person that Masumi had ever seen.  She could understand, a bit, why humans might want to keep her so badly.

“I should get going,” Masumi said reluctantly, standing up.

Yuzu looked up at her, laughter fading quickly.

“Already?”

Masumi nodded.  

“I need to make sure I put up signs and wards that will take hunters around you,” she said.  “It’s hunting season, and the lodge is full of nobles. I don’t want anyone to find you by accident.”

Yuzu stared at her for a while, and Masumi wondered if the soil also remembered the fate of many of her ancestors.

“Will you come back?” was all she asked.

Masumi smiled.

“Of course.”

* * *

 

_He stood there under the willow  
_

_And he gave her the yellow bloom_

_“Girl my heart you’ve captured_

_“Oh I would be your groom.”_

_She said she’d wed him never_

_Not near nor far nor soon_

He came back once again when the half moon was high and the breeze was chilly.  Yuzu did not exit her tree. She only watched him, standing beneath her branches.  He was clad in a fine green coat this time, the same color as her leaves. In one hand, he held a beautiful yellow flower.

“Are you there, my lady?” he called.

Yuzu didn’t answer.  She wondered if she should have told Masumi of the person who had already found her.  Masumi seemed very keen on making sure no one else knew she was here. The soil remembered why, but it wouldn’t tell her, no matter how much she begged.  It seemed afraid. It didn’t want to scare her. But she needed to know — what was there to be scared of?

“I’ve brought you a gift.”

She pushed her face out of her bark, high above him, and looked down.  He saw her right away, and smiled. He held the large yellow rose up to her.

“What for?” she asked.

He tilted his head.

“Isn’t it tradition to court a girl with flowers?”

She didn’t know of any such tradition.  She knew that the wardens would bring willow maidens gifts of water and fertilizer, like Masumi had.  But flowers seemed a silly gift. Still, she slid down her trunk so that she could see the flower. She poked her arm out and took it, looking at it.  It was quite pretty.

“Do you like it?”

“I think it would be prettier if it were still growing.”

There was a flicker in his face, something that made her leaves shudder.  But then he was smiling again.

“How silly of me.  Of course you’d think so.”

He held his hand out for the rose, and she returned to him.  Then he knelt at her roots, and tucked the rose into the soil.

“It’s a cutting,” he said, smiling.  “It will grow again. I’m sure it will add a beautiful color to your home.”

She stared at it.  She could feel it questing nervously into the dirt, seeing if it could grow her.  She looked at him again.

“Thank you,” she said.

He smiled once again.  His smile wasn’t like Masumi’s.  It felt cold.

“I suppose it’s fruitless to ask for your hand again, isn’t it?”

“I can’t leave,” she said.  “This is my home.”

He nodded, still smiling.

“I hope I’ll see you again,” he said.

He left her, and she watched him.  She didn’t like the feel of his hands on her leaves when he pushed them aside to step out from beneath her branches.  She looked back down at the rose. It was a sweet, scared thing. Her ire for him aside, she’d take good care of the blossom.  She slid back into her tree, and began to help feed the rose.

* * *

 

_“See me now  
_

_A ray of light in the moondance_

_See me now_

_I cannot leave this place_

_Hear me now_

_A strain of song in the forest_

_Don’t ask me to follow where you lead...”_

Masumi had to pause outside the curtain of leaves just to listen.  This was the first time she’d heard Yuzu sing in a language that she could understand — the words were haunting, the melody a little melancholy.  Her skin shivered.

“Masumi?”

Masumi couldn’t see Yuzu, but she supposed that the whole tree _was_ Yuzu, so she could probably see her.  Masumi stepped beneath the leaves.

Yuzu was sitting at the edge of the bank, like she had the first day that Masumi had met her. Masumi smiled, holding up the bag.

“I brought you more compost,” she said.

Yuzu brightened, standing up on her roots.  Masumi had to bite back her low inhale — it never failed.  Every time she saw Yuzu, she grew more and more beautiful.

Masumi dumped out the compost, and Yuzu happily curled her roots over it.  Her entire face lit up with delight, and Masumi found a heat growing over her cheeks.  She recalled with great clarity her teacher’s warning notes in the notebook: _be careful not to fall in love with a willow maiden._

And yet, as Masumi watched Yuzu nestled happily over the compost, her face alight with joy, the sun filtering down through the leaves and caressing the soft edges of her face, Masumi knew it was too late.

She’d loved before.  There were girls here and there, and a boy or two who passed through the lodge for the season.  They had been the rare good ones, the servants dragged along by their nobles who wanted to hunt, or even one noble girl who’d loved the woods like Masumi had.  But they never stayed. They couldn’t. And when winter came, Masumi was always alone in her little hut, whiling away the snowy hours by thinking about what she’d look for to make into a meal next.

Yuzu looked up at her as Masumi traced her face with her eyes.  Yuzu tilted her head, and Masumi quickly looked away.

“Masumi?”

Masumi covered her face and mouth.

“It’s nothing,” she said.  “Is there anything else you’d like?  I can’t promise anything, but I can bring you things if I have them...”

She felt a cool hand, soft like leaves, touch her face.  Yuzu’s other hand tugged Masumi’s from her mouth, and then she cupped Masumi’s face in both hands.  She was right up in front of Masumi, too-big eyes peering into Masumi’s.

“Masumi,” Yuzu said.  “Why are you taking care of me?”

Masumi’s cheeks heated.  This was a very intimate position for the two of them.

“I’m the warden of these woods...and willow maidens are part of them.  I want to protect you.”

Her fingers tightened a bit against Masumi’s cheeks.

“Protect me from what?  Do you care for every tree this way?  Why just me? What am I supposed to be afraid of?”

Masumi felt her heart drop out.  So she didn’t know. The way her eyes looked wide and wild, confused....Yuzu had no idea.  The soil hadn’t told her what befell the willow maidens of these woods before.

Masumi put her hands on top of Yuzu’s, secretly marveling at the softness of her skin, like petals.  Slowly, she sat down, and Yuzu sank down to stay at eye level with her. Masumi took both of Yuzu’s hands, and cupped them between the two of them.

“Yuzu,” she said.  “I will tell you. But...it might be hard to hear.”

“I don’t care.  I want to know.”

Masumi bit her lip.  Her chest tightened — she had heard the stories, of course, from her teacher, and been affronted then.  But now, she was in front of a willow maiden. A real, live, living creature with a heart and feelings. A girl she was in love with.  To tell her this could terrify her.

“A long time ago, this forest was full of willow maidens,” Masumi said.  “And not just them — but fey of every kind. It was a haven.”

She swallowed.  The trees rustled in the breeze.  Yuzu did not drop her gaze.

“But then the Empire rose up.  The war began.”

Yuzu shuddered.

“War,” she said, tasting the word.  “The soil knows the word, but won’t tell me...it is afraid.”

Masumi nodded.

“It’s a battle. A fight between thousands.  The Empire wanted to spread to the north, but the Winter Kingdom was a powerful enemy, full of magic that the Empire did not have.”

She shuddered.

“So the Empire decided to collect magic.  By force if it had to.”

Yuzu’s hands grew cold in hers, and some of the color retreated from her face and hair.

“No,” she whispered.

Masumi squeezed her hands, feeling tears rise to her eyes.

“The armies came through the woods, and the wardens couldn’t stop them.  They carried off all the fey they could find. They...they chopped down the trees of the willows who wouldn’t willingly marry to officers.”

Yuzu let out a thin keening sound, like a tree creaking in the wind.  Her eyes filled with tears.

“Most of the fey fled back to the feywilds.  But the willows...they...”

“They couldn’t leave,” Yuzu said miserably, keening again.  “We can’t leave from where we’re born.”

Masumi nodded.  Yuzu looked horrified.  Pale and dark-eyed with fear.  Her hands trembled in Masumi’s.  Masumi shouldn’t have told her. She never should have...

Yuzu sucked in a shuddering breath.

“You believe someone will come for me?  Demand me marry them, so that I can help them in their war?”

Masumi nodded.

“I’m afraid of losing you,” she said.  “You don’t deserve to be stolen away from your home.”

But Yuzu looked up sharply.  She considered Masumi for a long moment.  Then she reached out, cupped Masumi’s face in one hand.

“Masumi?” she whispered.  “The soil knows what love is.”

Masumi felt a shudder pass through her chest.

“I will never ask anything of you,” she said.  “I will go as soon as you tell me to leave. I won’t —”

“Don’t,” Yuzu said, cutting her off.  “Masumi. Don’t leave.”

“I can’t fall in love with you,” Masumi said desperately.  “I’ll start to want something from you. Something I can’t ask.”

Yuzu smiled.  And then, with a faint, whispering sound of leaves, she leaned forward.

Masumi had kissed before.  The romantics and bards liked to describe kisses as tasting like something, like cherries or excitement, as though excitement had a taste.  But lips didn’t taste like anything except lips.

It was different with Yuzu.  She did have a taste. She tasted like grass and clear water and the faint scent of ripening apples.

Masumi didn’t stop kissing her back until Yuzu broke away, still cupping her face.

“The soil knows what love is,” Yuzu whispered.  “And I know it’s what I’ve begun to feel for you.”

 _Be careful not to fall in love with a willow maiden_ , her teacher’s notes had warned.   _For they can never go home with you._

Masumi could still taste Yuzu’s lips on hers, and she felt dizzy with it.  

 _That’s all right_ , she thought at her teacher. _Because her home is mine._

* * *

 

_A young man walked through the forest  
_

_With an ax as sharp as a knife_

_“I’ll take the green-eyed faery_

_“And she shall be my wife_

_“With her I’ll raise my children_

_“With her, I’ll live my life.”_

Autumn was drawing to a close.  Masumi stood at attention near the exit of the lodge, drumming her fingers over her belt.  The lodge was a bustling commotion of harried servants rushing in and out, laden with bags they took to carriages, nobles strutting about and demanding more coffee or breakfast sausage, the sound of irritated horses nickering outside.  Masumi rolled her eyes. The end of the season was always a pain in the ass. She had to stick around, by Empire Law as the last designated forest warden, in case someone needed assistance or something went missing in the woods, or some stupid wanted a guide for a last minute romp.

But, she thought with relief, that meant the lodge would be empty for the season very soon.  She’d once again be the only human in the woods.

And Yuzu would be safe for the whole winter.  She could send a bird to some of her friends in town for assistance in how to continue concealing her once early bird nobles started trickling back for hunting in the spring.

Despite the earliness of the hour, there were a few rowdy looking men sitting at the bar in the lower level of the lodge.  A very exhausted looking bartender served them glasses, clearly not caring about enforcing the usual rules about proper times of drinking and proper levels of sobriety.  They had to get rid of the last of the stock after all, and the tender would probably be glad to leave for the season.

“I tell ya,” one of them slurred.  “I bagged the biggest white deer this year.”

“No you ain’t!  That was a rabbit!”

They all roared with laughter, slapping backs and pounding on tables.

“We all know who brought the biggest catch this year,” someone else said.  “Old Tomin, with his black foxes pelt.”

Masumi’s fists tightened. Black foxes were sacred...she hadn’t been able to scare them all south this year, it seemed.  She might be mandated by law and threat of punishment to assist and guide nobles to hunt things for sport in her beloved woods, but she tried her best to keep them away from the game she wanted to preserve.

“That’s not the best catch,” someone else slurred.  “Remember what the old Duke said?”

They all laughed uproariously again.

“If he comes back out of them woods with a maiden, then he wins our bet this year,” another laughed, waving his hand.  “I’ll personally give ‘em my whole estate!”

Masumi’s entire body went ice cold, and it wasn’t from the winter breeze filtering through the open doors.

Before she could think better of it, she shot over to the bar, grabbing the shoulder of the last man who had spoken.

“What did you say about a maiden?” she said.

The man glared at her with bloodshot eyes, and yanked his shoulder from her grip.

“Ain’t none of your business, is it, forest girl?” he sneered.

She stepped closer to him, hand on the blade of her knife, but he was too drunk to notice the threat.

“You said something about a maiden.  What were you talking about?”

“Duke Roger’s gone off his rocker,” one of the drunker members slurred.  “Insists he’s gonna bring out a willow maid as his bride this year.”

They all laughed.

“I saw him go out this morning, I did,” said another.  “Carrying an ax, like he’s gon’ find shit!”

Another roar of laughter, but this time, Masumi wasn’t here to hear it.  She ignored a frantic shout from a harried servant for her to help with something, and bolted out the open door.  Oh gods oh gods oh gods oh gods —

Yuzu!  She had to get to Yuzu!

She pulled herself to a tight job as she approached the woods, eyes scanning for some sign of the so-called Duke’s passing.  He might be skilled, but these were her woods. He would make a mistake, and she would find him.

There.

She saw a snapped branch that had not been made by any animal. Drawing her knife, she ran into the woods.  It was easy to track his passing — he kicked leaves and left footprints, tufts of fine clothing in branches.  She’d cut him off, and then —

She was stopped short, clotheslined across the stomach.  A pole? Had he set a trap?

The pain caught up to her belatedly, as she realized she wasn’t bouncing back as though she’d struck something.  She was caught, in the air, the blade of the great ax buried an inch into her stomach.

The man who must be Roger wrenched the ax out of her as he stepped out of the trees, and she collapsed backwarsd.  She gripped at her stomach, blood dripping between her fingers. Oh...oh _fuck_.

Roger stood over her, examining the blade of his wide, almost battle-made ax, coated with a thin sheen of blood.

“I thought you’d be more cautious,” he said.  “I prepared all these strategies to take down the forest warden, and here you fall, so easily.”

Masumi tried to speak, but couldn’t.  Oh fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck. She pressed her hands against her gut, trying to keep the blood in.

“I thought you’d find me much sooner, too,” he said, humming.  “But no matter. That should keep you long enough while I take the maiden.”

He turned, and walked towards Yuzu’s glade.  Masumi tried to push herself to her knees. Her blood scattered the dirt, streaking against a nearby tree as she gripped it.

“Wait,” she gasped.  “Wait! Don’t hurt her!”

But he ignored her.  And before she could even push herself to her knees, he was out of her sight.

Yuzu.  Yuzu Yuzu Yuzu Yuzu.

* * *

 

_The maiden wept when she heard him  
_

_When he said he’d set her free_

_He took his ax and used it_

_To bring down her ancient tree_

_“Now your willow’s fallen_

_“Now you belong to me.”_

Yuzu heard the feet, first, and knew they weren’t Masumi’s.  She slipped into her tree. The memory of what Masumi had told her rang in her mind, over and over.  The Duke would be here again. She knew this now. He’d come back, and try to coax her to marry him once more, and if she said no, he would kill her.  He would fell her tree, and destroy her.

She could have told Masumi of his visits.  She would have protected Yuzu, even at the cost of her own life.  But Yuzu could smell the danger on that man, and she knew one thing with perfect clarity.  She did not want him to hurt Masumi.

Her roots ached, and she shuddered.  The soil shuddered too, at her plans.  No willow maiden had ever taken a life before.  No tree had ever fed on blood. But if it was what she must do, Yuzu would.

She would crush him beneath her roots and drag his corpse into the soil if that was what had to be done.

She saw him come beneath her branches, carrying his ax.  The forest shuddered and she shuddered too, at the memory of steel and the bite of metal.  But she did not leave her trunk. She only waited.

Roger looked up at the tree.

“My lady,” he called.  “I come to ask you once more if you would take my hand in marriage of your own free will.”

Yuzu rustled her leaves, and he looked around.  His smile finally faded, and the ugliness she knew had laid beneath it emerged.  He held up his ax.

“Do not think I don’t have ways of taking you by force,” he said.  “This is your last chance.”

“I do not respond to threats,” Yuzu called at him through her trunk, making her whole tree shake with her words.

“Then you will choose the way of pain,” he said.

He cranked his ax back, and it bit into her wood.

Yuzu _screamed_.  Her branches flew up in a twister of wind, and her whole trunk shook and twisted.  It hurt more than she thought it would! And she tasted — blood. She tasted blood, already on the ax.

The soil shuddered, and the roots she entwined with across the forest told her what it knew.

 _Masumi_.

An infernal rage overtook her.  Something unlike anything she had ever know, or that the soil had ever known.  Her branches roiled as he tugged his ax free and cranked it back for another strike.

She twisted her whole trunk up, creaking, and slammed it down.

He was faster than she had anticipated, bolting out of the way — but she took comfort in his surprise.  He swore as she drew herself back up, and meanwhile, sent her body under the earth, sprouting up behind him.

She grabbed him by the neck from behind, her fingers long and strong like her branches.  He choked. She crushed her hands into his throat, lifting him from the ground.

“You killed her!” she shrieked.  “You killed Masumi!”

He dangled in her grip, gagging and swinging.  He dropped his ax. She tightened her grip, lengthening her fingers to coil around him like vines, determined to strangle every last bit of life out of him —

She felt a horrible burning in her roots, and screamed.  She had to let him go in her pain, staggering back. Her roots — they were burning!  She looked down with horror as Roger threw another handful of dust at her, coughing and gagging.  The dust coated her roots and began to eat them away. She shrieked and writhed, trying to escape the pain, but she couldn’t free herself.  As she tried to struggle up, he threw another handful at her roots, and the pain spiked again.

“Iron dust will not kill you, but it will hurt,” he gasped.  “You were more trouble than I expected. And she was less.”

She shrieked at the pain, writhing in and out of the dirt, but even when she sank back into the soil, the pain would not go away.  More pain wracked her as she felt him strike her tree with his ax again. She tried to leap from the soil at him, but another strike of the ax left her writhing in pain.  She felt herself falling apart.

“I’ll die!” she screamed.  “You can’t have me if I die!”

He chuckled darkly, and struck through the bark again, muscles heaving with each strike.

“I have ways of maintaining you,” he said.  “This is only the beginning of your suffering.”

Yuzu collapsed to her earth, screaming and writhing.  But the combination of the iron dust, and the ax, cleaving through her connection to the earth, left her immobilized.  

She could do nothing as she felt her trunk heave, and then...collapse.  Roger watched with cold eyes as she, her tree, the dead part of herself, creaked and fell, taking down other trees with it.  But she couldn’t hear their cries. She couldn’t feel them. Her connection to the soil was gone.

She was surprised that she wasn’t dead.  She only laid there in the grass, feeling a weakness overtake her.  She was alone. The soil could no longer tell her anything. She couldn’t feel the forest.  She couldn’t even feel herself.

Roger grabbed her by the wrist, heaving her into the air, and she couldn’t even resist.  She dangled, feeling strange and light-headed. Her roots were gone. She had...legs. She had legs like Masumi.  They felt inadequate and thin.

She gasped with more pain as Roger forced an iron ring around her finger.

“Now,” he said with a dark smile.  “You are mine.”

* * *

 

_She followed him out of the forest  
_

_And collapsed upon the earth_

_Her feet had walked but a distance_

_From the green land of her birth_

_She faded into a flower_

_That would bloom for one bright eve_

_He could not take from the forest_

_What was never meant to leave_

It was all a blur.  She pulled herself along the trees, one a time, not even sure where she was going.  It was dark — was it dark already? It had been morning. Maybe it was just her eyes.  

She coughed, a blood came with it.  One hand gripped her stomach, but it was hard to keep her hand there — it kept slipping off.  But she had to keep moving. Yuzu...Yuzu needed her.

She stumbled along.  She dropped her knees, and crawled.  She pulled herself back up again, vision blurring, and kept going.

She screamed through a bubble of blood as light blinded her, as she stumbled out of the trees and collapsed on her knees.  No! She’d — she’d left the woods! She’d gone the wrong way! Yuzu!

She gasped, and tried to turn around.  Was she already too late? Yuzu...Yuzu...

She heard, through the haze of pain, a rustling.  A faint swear, and a strangled sound. She looked up through her bangs, vision blurring in and out.  

Two shapes emerged from the woods.  Masumi gasped, blood trickling from her lips.  Roger — and — and Yuzu.

Yuzu looked thin and weak, tiny in comparison to Roger.  He was dragging her along by the wrist, and it seemed her legs could only barely hold her.  She kept falling to her knees, and he would drag he back up.

“Yuzu,” Masumi gasped.  “Yuzu!”

Her voice was less than a whisper, and yet, somehow, Yuzu heard it.  Her face whipped around. Her eyes widened. It was still the same face — the same beautiful face and eyes, even if a bit gaunt.  Masumi felt herself weakening. At least she got to see...Yuzu...one last...time...

She heard a scream.  The entire forest seemed to come alive.

She heard a horrible rush of wind and leaves, trees creaking as though a tornado passed between them, the earth heaving and cracking.  Then she felt Yuzu throwing herself onto Masumi.

“Don’t go!” she screamed. “Don’t go!”

Masumi managed to put one arm around her, laying her head into Yuzu’s neck.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Yuzu grabbed her other hand.  There was a tugging on her, but she tightened her grip on Masumi and screamed.  Masumi could hear Roger shouting, trying to pull Yuzu off of Masumi. The forest was still roaring — was she the only one who could hear that??

She felt Yuzu’s hands, cool and soft — and the hard, harsh metal that clamped around one finger.  She fumbled for it. This. This was what Roger was using to keep her prisoner.

“I’m sorry,” Masumi gasped.  “I couldn’t protect you.”

She gasped once more, spittling blood onto Yuzu’s dress.

“But I can set you free.”

She pulled the ring off.  She heard Yuzu’s faint gasp.

And then, in Masumi’s arms, Yuzu disappeared.  Through her blurring vision, she could see Yuzu’s body fade, shrink, and disappear...leaving behind only a single, beautiful white flower.  It looked like a yuzu blossom, soft and white.

“You bitch!”

Masumi saw the foot just in time.  With the last of her strength, she threw herself over the blossom.  Roger’s foot stomped on her back instead of the flower, and that only seemed to fuel his rage.  She curled herself around the flower, propping herself up on her elbows and knees, as he kicked her, over and over and over.

“I was so close!  I was so damn close, you little bitch!  You’ve made this all worthless!”

Masumi didn’t respond. She couldn’t.  Her blood speckled the flower with each time he kicked her.

She heard him scream with rage, and he kicked her one last time.

“Bleed to death over her useless remains!” he swore.  “And remember how you couldn’t save her!”

She heard him leaving, storming away.  But she had no strength left. She could only stay exactly where she had fallen, her head bent down over the flower.  Her tears fell into the dirt along with her blood, and she stared at the flower. It was...all that was left. She choked back a cry, touching the soft petals with her fingers — as soft as her hands had been.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped.  “I’m so sorry, Yuzu.”

She collapsed to her side, still curled about the flower.  The sky was cold and white overhead, and as she closed her eyes, the first, fluffy flakes of snow began to dust across her face.

"I won't go," she whispered, as the darkness took her.  "I'll stay with you forever.  I'll stay...forever."

* * *

 

_Oh see me now  
_

_A ray of light in the moondance_

_See me now_

_I cannot leave this place_

_Hear me now_

_A strain of song in the forest_

_Don’t ask me to follow where you lead_

He put his hand to the soil.

“This soil remembers love,” he said.

From her horse, his companion raised an eyebrow at him.

“Waxing poetic now, are we?” she said

“It’s my job.  You knew what you were in for when you married a bard.”

She rolled her eyes.  But her eyes lifted up to the trees, and her smile faded.

It had been fifty years since the Cataclysm, the day that the forest fought back.  Fifty years since the forest had lurched, and the world had changed. Once, the woods had been a haven for the fey.  Then it had been a hunting ground for bored nobles. And now, it was an impenetrable fortress — thick trees grew tightly together for as far as the eye could see, a natural wall of bark and leaves.  What remained of the long ago hunting lodge had been reclaimed by the forest, overgrown with thick yellow roses. As her husband had told her more than once, the bodies of the nobles of long ago too dumb to flee still rotted inside it, having been unable to escape the thorns that consumed it.  

“I don’t think you’ll learn more about your story out here,” she said, turning back to him as her horse nickered softly.  “The trees have little to say to ones like us.”

He stood up, and turned his eyes up to the trees before them.

Two beautiful willows grew next to each other, their curtains of leaves waving lightly in the breeze.  Their branches were twined together above and their roots, though their trunks had parted in the middle, so that if you parted the leaves, you might see a pathway into the woods.  The only gate into the forest that remained since the Cataclysm. None had dared enter, not since the Duke of Norwin’s ally had tried to march an army in there in retribution for the Duke’s death at the hands of the forest.  None of them had returned, save for a handful of shaken, hollow-eyed soldiers, who refused to say what had passed inside. Only that the forest wished to be left alone, and they survived because they respected that wish — they encouraged others to do the same.

He raised his hand to cup some of the willow leaves.  There was a shiver in them at his touch. He thought he heard a giggle.  Through the waving leaves in the breeze, he imagined for a moment that he saw two girls, sitting in the middle where the two roots systems touched.  Holding hands, as though in a mirror of the branches that entwined together above them.

He stepped back.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he said.  “I think they deserve to be left alone, after all.”

“What are you talking about?”

He smiled, and swung himself into the saddle behind her.

“Just spouting off my usual silly stories,” he said, nuzzled his face into her pigtails.  “Now, my dear princess Ray. Let’s find a place where we won’t be bothered, either.”

“Your bard charm isn’t going to work on me, Zarc,” she laughed.  

But she kicked her horse lightly into a trot, and they left the forest behind.

From the twin willows, two faces peeked out from beneath their leaves.  Then they smiled, and retreated back into the cover of their curtains.

The soil remembered blood.  It remembered the cut and bite of steel.

But it always remembered love the strongest of all.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this work, please consider supporting the artist whose song/lyrics inspired this story! She's an independent artist and this from her first album, which was honestly a formative experience for me when I was younger. It's been a dream of mine to write something based around one of her songs for a very long time, and after tossing many, many ideas around, I've finally decided to use Arc V Angst Week to make that happen.
> 
> Please check out [ Erutan Music](http://www.erutanmusic.com/) to support the original artist and see what other great stuff she's got!
> 
> You can also listen to The Willow Maid on her Youtube channel, featuring some of her incredible artwork as well [ right here! ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E52rxz2sjRs)


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